


Dear Diary

by more_profound_bond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/more_profound_bond/pseuds/more_profound_bond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is working on Wall Street during the 80's when he meets Dean Winchester - his new boss. Will the romance bloom, despite the discrimination during that time? Rating may change depending on where I go with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet The New Boss

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only the plot is mine.  
> Trigger warning: This chapter has a description of a panic attack, if you are triggered easily please do not read. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of an attack, stay safe.  
> I recently read American Psycho (by Bret Easton Ellis) and it kinda made me want to write about Wall Street in the 80’s. So a Destiel romance in the workplace it is, but don’t worry, there aren’t any serial killers.  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Also posted on my ff.net account under the username more-profound-bond and same story title.

Tuesday 19th June (1982)

Dear Diary, 

I have recently been informed by my therapist that I am required to keep a diary of my days so that I can get to the root of my troubles. Personally I render the exercise pointless, yet I am not paying her laughable sums of money to ignore her expertise. So here I am. I will keep in here the very depths of my work and social life, my “thoughts and feelings” as it was referred to by Dr Harvelle - the therapist previously mentioned.

I have been suffering through some kind of nervous disorder in the recent months of my life, and I was referred to Dr Harvelle by an ex work colleague of mine, Robert Singer, we still remain in contact after I left my job at the law firm Caelum Vis on Cedar Street, for I believed it was there that I developed this nervous disorder. The boss was a very taxing woman. Mrs Naomi Tapping was her name, I believe the reason she was so taxing was due to her gender and status. She needed her employees to know that she “was not to be messed with,” in her words. At the time that I am beginning this account of my life, I am 28 years of age, living in New York City. I am unattached for reasons that I am sure will become apparent throughout this diary.  
I am certain now that that is enough background information for the readers of this diary, namely myself - Dr Harvelle said that she does not need to read it, she only needs to see evidence that I’ve written it so it is there as a “back up” referral should anything significant happen in my mental stability. So now I can proceed with the first actual account of my life.

Today began positively, and surprisingly I can say the same for how it ended. I received a phone call saying that I have an interview for a new job on Wall Street at Domus Law, and that I should be present in the office at 12:00pm. At that moment it was 9:35am so I had plenty of time.

As soon as I hung up, I had a warm shower, ensuring to thoroughly wash my hair so that I can look presentable. I then got dressed into a white undershirt and a black suit. I put on my best glossy black shoes.

After looking at my appearance in the mirror and was pleased with the image, I went into my ‘over-the-top’ kitchen and put together a salad, ignoring the protests that my stomach gave craving a cheap burger from Fast Fries on West 11thStreet, so that I would not feel bloated during my interview.

After non-sufficiently filling my stomach, it was 11:20, which gave me plenty of time to leave my apartment complex on East 65th Street to get to the building I hoped to work at.

Running outside I decided to get a coffee to help me keep up my energy through the interview. Despite the advice that coffee fuels panic attacks and such, I’m tired and decide that it is worth the risk.

By the time I arrived at the building with half a cup of coffee in hand it was 11:50.

I walked up to the front desk and the receptionist, a red headed woman, seemed friendly enough.

"Hello, my name is Castiel Novak, I have been told to report to reception regarding an interview with a Mr," I paused, stumbling to remember the name of the interviewer, "Mr Winchester."

"Woah there Mr Formalities, save all the posh speak for the interview." I smiled, though slightly confused; I was speaking as I normally would. "Talking of which take the elevator to floor 34 and wait in the ‘designated area’ for Dea- sorry, Mr Winchester’s secretary to call you in for your interview."

"Thank you, uh-" I leaned forward slightly to see her name tag, "Charlie."

"You’re welcome." She grinned before adding, "And good luck!" I smiled back in thanks, before turning to the elevator.

As the elevator climbed, I felt the anxiety clouding over me. /I shouldn’t have had that coffee/, I thought to myself. I felt my throat constricting as the elevator seemed to shrink around me. The sick feeling that I was so used to welled in my stomach and I had to bite my lip as if to prevent myself and the others in the elevator from seeing my salad again. It would certainly be even less appealing a second time. At each floor the doors opened to let somebody out and I had to prevent myself from fleeing the metal trap I was in. I had to remind myself constantly of the job that I could potentially get. If I had arrived earlier I could have got out and used the stairs, but now that would result in tardiness and that was something unacceptable to me.

I begrudgingly stayed inside the elevator until the doors opened at my floor. A rush of relief washed over me, momentarily overriding the anxiety. Yet it made its way back as I fumbled out of the elevator and into the ‘designated area’ to wait.

The open space of the area helped to calm my anxiety; I felt it gradually die out from the pit of my stomach. My breathing returned to normal as I waited, and the sick feeling passed. I checked my watch, it was now 12:10 and the delay in the interview annoyed me slightly. Yet as I was about to ask if I had the right time, I heard the secretary attempting to call me over.

"Mr Novak?" I turned my head to look over at the blonde woman. I walked over to her desk.

"Hello, yes I am Castiel Novak."

"I can see." She smiled; I briefly looked at her name tag, to see ‘Joanna’. "Dean- uh sorry, Mr Winchester is in his office. He’s ready for ya’ll now. Hope it goes well, we could use another looker around here." She winked at me and her southern drawl tied in with her flirty personality and appearance.

Smiling, I thanked her, ignoring her attempt at flirtation. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door to the side of her desk. There was no answer, so I looked back at  
Joanna yet she continued to smile at me. Brushing off the silence, I turned the door handle and walked into the office.

The sight I was met with almost overwhelmed me.

Mr Winchester sat at his desk, wearing a fitted grey suit. The waist coat clung onto his muscular frame. And as my eyes travelled from his chest to his face, my legs almost collapsed underneath me.

He had just looked up from the papers sprawled messily over his mahogany desk, and his verdurous eyes met mine. The freckles scattered lightly over his defined cheekbones and his jaw jutted out indefinitely it seemed.

His impossibly full lips curved upwards to the heavens in a smile, revealing perfect snow dusted teeth.

My legs were jelly as I stared at him, until I realised I had yet to return the gesture. Sheepishly, I drew my own smile onto my face, which I was certain looked nowhere near as effortless or tantalising as his did. 

I felt no unease at my sudden attraction to the man at the desk as I had long before become aware of my homosexuality, however I seldom told people. The discrimination and hate I would receive over it, something that is out of my control, would bear no comparison.

He opened his mouth to speak, and the moment the words started flowing from his perfectly carved mouth, the angel-esque image I had painted of this man in my mind shattered. Each tiny fragment rung in my ears.  
"So what have we got here then?"

"I’m Castiel Novak, here for the interview regarding the job as junior accountant."

"Wow, aren’t /you/ the formal one?"

"I uh- I guess I am, yes."

"Well don’t just stand there, come sit down." He flashed another smile at me and I moved over to the deep brown chair placed in front of his desk. "So what makes you qualified for this job?"

"I studied at the High School of Economics and Finance, and I now have a Masters of Science in Mathematical Finance from New York University – the Courant Institute of Mathematical Sciences division. I also had this position at my previous company so I have experience."

"Get fired?" My eyes widened, /how could he come to such conclusions so abruptly?/ And the complete disregard of my education and qualifications stunned me further.

"No, I quit."

"So you’re a quitter then?"

"No I just uh no it’s just that my uh my boss-"

"Well? Your boss…?" He leaned forward, pushing me to respond.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to speak again. “My boss was very hard to get along with,” I stuttered slightly, trying to word it to my advantage. “So I made the decision to leave the job, feeling someone could take my position who perhaps worked better with her.”

He smiled again, and I relaxed slightly, yet on false pretences. “So you don’t get along with other colleagues?” I felt the anxiety begin to rise in my stomach once more, as I fumbled for an answer. Yet I came up short.

I replied with the first thing that my panic-stricken mind deemed mildly acceptable. “I get along with whoever it is necessary to get along with.”

"You don’t sound like much of a team player." The accusations began to make my head swirl slightly.

"I uh, I can work well in a team. I didn’t think this job required much team work though?"

"Unprepared to the interview, that doesn’t bode well for you." He looked up at me from where he was continually writing notes. /Why is he making these assumptions/, was all I could think.

"No. I am uh I’m prepared enough for the uh for the interview." I could feel the heat in my cheeks increase with every word I forced out.

"Well," he smiled a toothy, arrogant grin once more, and the effect it had on me the first time was a thing of the past. "I think I have all I need, we will get back to you."

I attempted a smile that I am sure looked a lot like a grimace, before I stood up and turned to leave. “Thank you for your time, I look forward to hearing from you.” I have had that line prepared since I was 19 and went to my first interview; I have never left an interview without saying it. ‘Good manners get you far’, I remember my mother saying to me.

The smile remained on his face as he spoke. “Close the door on your way out.” He then turned back to the papers on his desk, rendering my presence in his office useless.

I thanked his secretary Joanna once more before I made a swift exit to the staircase.

I was sure that that had been the worst interview I had ever been to. The attractiveness of this Mr Winchester was greatly hidden under his accusatory personality, a trait that I have never liked in a person.

It should not be a large loss if I did not get the job I decided, I’m sure having him as a boss is a great deal worse than someone striving for respect, as Naomi had been. This Mr Winchester has respect, and he fails to use it wisely. I shall be better off if I do not get the job. I continued to reassure myself of this for the entire duration of the trek down the many stairs, refusing to attempt the panic filled metal prison again.

Once I had reached the lobby of the building, I smiled at the receptionist and began to leave the building.

I made it back to my apartment at 2:50pm, a great deal later than I had wanted to be back. Yet I had decided to stop at Fast Fries to get the burger I had longed for throughout the day, to ease the loss of a potential job and too much anxiety.

I sat down on my overpriced sofa, a pure white that took too much time to maintain. I had Beethoven – Piano Sonata No.26 playing as it calms me, and helps to bring my mood up if only slightly. I had just begun to relax as I attempted to forget the interview, when the phone rang again.

Irritably, I got up.

"Hello, this is Castiel Novak speaking."

/”Damn, you’re always that formal?”/

"Who is this I’m talking to?"

But of course I remembered the deep voice belonging to none other than /“Dean Winchester, from Domus Insurance.”/

"It didn’t take you long to get back to me."

I could hear chuckles from the other end of the line. /“We’re very efficient here, and I had already made up my mind by the end of the interview.”/

His voice was unreadable. It gave me no clues to decipher whether I had got the job or not. Although I had already decided that it was not looking good for me, based on the horrendous interview that I was trying to repress.

"So what is the verdict, if I may ask?"

/“Well, you can ask anything now that you’re my employee.”/ His words rung in my ears as my jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe that I had got the job. I had never had an interview so terrible in my life. And I hadn’t got the job many times after better interviews than that one. I was speechless. /“Mr Novak? Are you there?”/

I scrambled my brain trying to find a response. “Yes, yes I am. This is great, thank you! But I don’t understand, the interview didn’t exactly go well from what I can remember.”  
I could hear more laughter. 

/“Sorry about that, I kinda cross examine all potential employees. I use the ‘Mr tough boss man’ tactic.” This time, I was the one laughing. “How’d I do?"/

"You certainly had me fooled Mr Winchester."

/“I count that as a win in my books then. And as I’m going to be your boss you must know that I really do hate formalities. Call me Dean. And instead of Mr Novak or Castiel, cool name by the way, I’ll call you Cas if you’re okay with that?”/

I couldn’t help a slight blush creeping onto my face at the thought of being given a nickname. “That’s fine Dean, thank you again. When would you like me to begin working?”

/“Is Thursday, 8 sharp good for you?”/

"That’s perfect, thank you. See you then."

/“See you, Cas.”/

I smiled as I hung up, and immediately came here to begin writing. The beginning of a new job seemed to be an appropriate time to begin a new diary. So until next time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only the plot is mine.
> 
> Words like /this/ are in italics, and words like //this// are bolded.

Friday 22nd June (1982)

Dear Diary,  
Today I began my job as junior accountant Domus Law. Yesterday was considerably uneventful so I have decided to write my next entry today.

I awoke at 6:45, giving myself plenty of time to arrive on Wall Street, promptly at 8. My morning routine was as it always is. I showered, washing myself and my hair thoroughly, still to make a good impression on my first day of work. I am not entirely sure that it would bode well for me if I turned up redolent of an unpleasant odour. I attempted to convince myself that it was not due to the fact that I wanted to appeal to Mr Winchester, I am aware that the man is heterosexual. I do not even have a chance of a relationship with him. Even if he was a homosexual, I am certain that he would not be attracted to me. He is a very attractive man, and I myself, am not. And if by a miracle, he reciprocated my attraction, he would not want to date me after finding out about my nervous disorder; that is what people would refer to as ‘baggage’, along with the fact that he is now my boss. Furthermore, I know next to nothing about his personality and I might not like it if I found out. He seemed pleasant on the phone, yet our first encounter was a facade, so that might have been too. So I have decided that I will bury the attraction I feel to Mr Winchester and focus on maintaining the job. 

I got dressed into the same, newly dry cleaned suit that I wore to the interview and applied gel to my hair in order for it to stay in place due to the slight breeze outside. As I walked into my kitchen, I placed two slices of bread into the toaster and retrieved the orange juice from the fridge. I decided not to attempt coffee again, even though I was certain that I would be using the stairs.

Just as I went to leave my apartment, I sighed, looking at the coat rack next to the door and seeing my tan trench coat hanging up. As the weather was progressively becoming warmer, the need for a coat was becoming less. I knew I would come to be too hot and eventually look absurd wearing a trench coat in the height of summer, yet I have grown attached to the coat, and I feel absurd //not// wearing it. Nevertheless, I brushed off the feeling and exited my apartment.

I drove to work in my trusted 1972 Dodge Challenger, avoiding any coffee shops like the plague, and arrived 20 minutes early. This allowed me time to hike up the 34 flights of stairs. /I am definitely going to need to eat more of those burgers if I have to do this every day/, I thought to myself. 

Sweating, a lot, I arrived to the 34th floor. The time was 8:10, I had severely misjudged my fitness. The tardiness annoyed me, yet I wiped my sweat away with my silk handkerchief and walked into the office. To my surprise, the only person present in the office was Mr Winchester.

“Cas!” At hearing his voice, my self-annoyance immediately dissipated. “You’re late!” He said with a grin, which I attempted to return.

“I’m sorry; I did just walk up 34 flights of stairs!” His entire face widened.

“No fucking way, are you kidding me? Why didn’t you use the elevator?” I decided against immediately telling him of my nervous disorder.

I tried to retain the smile on my face. “I uh, I do not like elevators, I feel that they get too crowded.”

“Oh my god, I’ve hired a crazy person.” The grin had now returned to his face. “But, at this time there’s not many people in the building, you’ve probably noticed the lack of people in the office.” He said with a wink, causing an unwelcome blush on my cheeks.

“Yes, I did notice. Mr Winchester, may I ask-,” I began to say before he cut off my speech.

“I told you, call me Dean. Well, unless there’s new people or my boss in the office.” I found that that explained Charlie and Joanna referring to him as Dean before they corrected themselves, ‘old habits die hard’, my mother’s voice reminded me.

“Sorry. Dean. May I ask where all of the other workers are?”

He chuckled at my question. “They don’t start till 9, all firms in the building start then. I asked you to come in an hour early so I could brief you on everything and uh you know, get you on my side after the interview.” 

“Well yes, I admit I did not think too kindly of you after that. But the phone call won me over slightly, you are getting there Winchester.” He was laughing now.

“Okay Novak, get into my office before I fire you.” The empty threat only made us laugh more.

I walked into his office and took the seat I had sat at during the interview, and he took his place behind the desk. This time, I looked around his office. The anxiety I felt the first time I was there left me to stare at my fiddling fingers, so I did not get a chance to look around at the office. There were posters of what I am assuming are the rock artists AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, and Metallica. I have not personally heard any of these artists music, but he must enjoy them if he has their posters.

There were also multiple pictures on his desk, some I could see as they were facing me, yet others were facing Dean. I could see Joanna the receptionist with Dean in one of the pictures. In another, there was an abnormally tall man with long chestnut coloured hair, wearing a plaid t-shirt. He towered over Dean and had him in a playful headlock. The relationship between them looked brotherly, but I could not tell. 

“That’s my little brother Sammy, you wouldn’t guess from his height. Dude never stops growing. He overtook me in freshman year.”

“You look very close with your brother.”

“Yeah, he actually works here. He works in court as a prosecutor, but he’s with our company.”

I found myself curious, and I could not help but ask. “That’s interesting. But why did you choose the position you have now, rather than working in court too.” 

“The salary’s not much different, and I like working with the people in the office you know? You meet new people all the time as a prosecutor and I guess you could say I’m a creature of habit. I did a lot of travelling as a kid ‘cause of my dad’s job, so I like familiarity now.”

“I see, if you don’t mind me asking, what job did your father have?” He smiled, flashing his pearl-white teeth once more and I felt my heart flutter.

“I don’t mind at all, but damn this is unprofessional. I’m your boss.” He laughed once more. “I’m sure we can go out for a drink one day, but right now I gotta brief you. I’m sorry; I’m not normally this unprofessional. I swear.”

“It is quite alright, I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.” I already felt a connection to this man, and the prospect of going out ‘for a drink’ with him excited me. Yet I attempted to ignore the thoughts once more, /the connection is one-sided and he’s //hetero//sexual/, I repeated to myself. /He’s your boss, and he is //not// interested/.

“Well that’s a relief.” He grinned once more before continuing. “Okay, so onto your job...”. 

He continued to explain that I would have to work 9 till 5 from Monday to Friday, and occasionally Saturdays. I am the only accountant for this branch of the firm, despite being the junior accountant. Although, he explained, that with my qualifications I would be more than able to handle it, which made my heart flutter once more.

He finished briefing me, and people started arriving. He showed me to my desk situated to the right of the entrance door, which brought a sigh of relief from me. The closer I am to the door, the less anxious I become, and so it was looking up for me. I brought my picture frame, with a picture of my mother and father, also one of me with my brother Gabriel, and my sister Anna. Once I was seated, I immediately placed them on the desk. Dean lingered, he appeared nervous for some reason.

“So- uh, seeing as you don’t know anyone in the firm, did you wanna come to lunch with me and Jo later? We have a different lunch break time from everyone else, but I’m sure I could make an exception for you, considering I’m the manager of the branch.” He spoke and ended with another wink, nervously I looked down at my feet, unsure of how to respond. I had brought lunch with me, but the promise of eating with Dean was an offer that I felt unable to refuse.

“That would be great thank you. Is Jo the receptionist?” 

“Yeah, our lunch is at 2, we’ll come get you when we’re ready to go.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready then, Winchester.”

“You better be, we’ll leave without you if we have to, Novak.” He smiled and turned on his heel before I had the chance to respond. His level of unprofessionalism for his title as manager made me smile, I was sure he was as forward with the rest of his employees, but I still could not help but feel special at being invited to lunch.

I began to work immediately and the time slipped away without warning. I was focused on the numbers I was currently working on when I heard someone clear their throat in front of me. I looked up to see Dean and Joanna waiting there. 

“Told you to be ready at 2, Novak.”

“Sorry, I lost track of time.”

“Well at least you’re working, can’t be mad at that. Oh well, come on, I’m starving.”

“I agree.” This time it was Jo who spoke. “I dunno about ya’ll but I’m getting a huge cheese burger.”

A grin etched itself into my features at the mention of a cheeseburger. “Cheese burger? Okay, I’m finished. Let’s go. Now.”

Dean smiled and turned to Jo. “Okay, at least we know what he likes to eat.”

I tidied my desk and stood up too fast, making my head rush slightly, but I brushed it off. Jo turned towards the elevator before Dean stopped her. 

“Let’s take the stairs; we could all use a bit of exercise.” I smiled, he didn’t know the full reason why I didn’t want to take the elevator, yet he still didn’t mention it to Joanna. /He is definitely winning me over. / 

She shrugged and followed Dean into the stairwell, and I trailed shortly behind. I never made many friends at work, the only friend I had at my previous job was Robert Singer, or Bobby as people referred to him. Yet now there was a possibility that I could have two friends on my first day, and one was the manager, which could potentially bode well for me.

As we made our way outside; Dean and Jo immediately walked over to a black car in the parking lot. I assumed we would be taking only one car so immediately dropped my keys back into my pocket.

“You have a very nice car, Winchester.”

“I’ll give you an instant pay raise if you can name the make and model.” He smirked at me, and Jo seemed interested.

“1967 Chevrolet Impala, am I correct?” Both pairs of eyes widened at me, and I grinned smugly. “When should I be expecting my pay raise?”

“You got a good eye on you Novak, but there might be like a year or two delay in the pay raise.”

As we got into the car, Jo spoke. “I’m pretty sure you said an ‘instant pay raise’ if I recall correctly.” 

“Shutup Jo, or you’re fired.”

She feigned horror. “Please Mr Winchester, don’t fire me!” The sarcasm was thick in her tone, and they both immediately started laughing, and before I knew it, I was joining in.

We arrived to a cafe on East 1st Street. I had never been there before, but the appearance looked particularly ‘mod’ as I recall it.

We walked in and were greeted by the waitress who knew Dean and Jo. 

“Hey!” 

“Pamela, hey! We’d like our usual booth please.”

“Follow me boys, and lady.” She winked at Jo. 

When we got to the booth, Jo and Dean took the seats that I assumed they usually sat at. As I had barely spoken to Jo, I slid into the space next to Dean.

“What? Have I got rabies or something? Come over here pretty boy.” She spoke with allure that I am sure any heterosexual male or would have fallen at her feet for, yet the effect on me happened to be mute. Nevertheless I complied; I got up and moved to the seat opposite Dean. I smiled at Jo, and then at Dean; who looked between us and then looked down, blushing slightly.

“So are you guys gonna sit there smiling like a bunch of girls or are you gonna order something?”

“Hey, I //am// a girl, but yeah, I’ll have the double cheeseburger with fries, and a small coke.”

“Good choice Jo, and you boys?” 

Dean spoke up. “I’ll have the Sticky burger, fries, a coke and apple pie for after. And seeing as he over there has never been here before,” he pointed at me. “He’ll have the same.”

My eyes widened. “Will I?” 

He smiled at my reaction. “Yeah, you will. And you’re gonna enjoy every bite.”

“Well, if I must.”

“Okay, two Sticky burgers, one double cheeseburger, three cokes, three portions of fries and two apple pies coming right up.”

“Thanks Pam!” Dean called after her; she just waved her hand at him, dismissing him.

“Uh, may I ask what is in a ‘Sticky’ burger?” The name startled me slightly and I was unsure whether it would be something I would be able to eat. Leaving food on my plate is another thing I find unacceptable and I felt the panic rising from my core. I didn’t want to have a panic attack there. Especially not with the people I might eventually be able to call my friends. 

Dean must have noticed the panic evident in my features. “Dude, don’t worry. It’s just a double cheeseburger with some special kinda sauce holding the two bits of meat together. I dunno why Jo just settles for a normal cheeseburger when she can have that little piece of heaven.”

“Give it up Dean, the sauce is not //that// special, and I do like some burger with my sauce, they smother that shit on there.”

Dean turned to me. “Don’t listen to her, they have the perfect burger to sauce ratio.” Dean words calmed me slightly, allowing me to be calm enough to collect my thoughts. Once I can collect my thoughts I am able to think myself out of the attack, and now I was grateful for Dean and his words. Without him there, I am sure I would have had a full blown attack in the middle of the diner, and I would have ended up running out without paying and losing my shot at friends. So it is another thing I am thankful to this Mr Winchester for. 

I then felt calm enough to speak again. “Well that is a positive thing, being in a mathematical field of work I am always open to perfect ratios.” Dean chuckled, while Jo looked slightly taken aback.

“No offence, but are you really always that formal?”

Dean answered for me. “Every word I’ve heard outta the dude’s mouth has been near enough perfect.” The redness crept onto my cheeks after hearing Dean call my words perfect, and it dawned on him what he had just said. “I uh- I mean like the pronunciation and formality of it.” 

Jo didn’t seem to notice as she only laughed in response. After that, Jo and Dean began to playfully argue again over what kind of burger is the best, until the food arrived. 

“Here you are guys, enjoy.” She smiled and walked off to serve another booth.

I looked at the burger on my plate and my mouth immediately watered. The burger was presented beautifully and looked delicious. It was the correct size so I was not afraid I would have to eat too much and become ill, yet not too little that I would be begging to leave work to eat again. Even the smell tantalized my nostrils. 

“Cas, buddy, you look like you’re about to kiss that burger, not eat it.” Jo giggled.

“You want us to get you and the burger a room?” The blush returned to my face once I realised I had been solidly staring at the food on the plate in front of me.

“I’m fine here, thank you.” I smiled, trying to keep the mortified look from my face at being laughed at. “We should eat now.”

“Way ahead of you.” I looked and saw that Dean and Jo had already taken multiple bites from their burgers, and were now focused on taking more. 

I lifted the burger to my lips and took a large enough bite to get the taste, but not too large incase I did not like what I tasted. 

But the taste was magnificent. There are no words I could write in this diary to describe how divine the burger tasted. It was as Dean had said it would be, it was like a chunk of heaven had been carved off and placed on my plate. 

Unwillingly, a small moan escaped my lips and I immediately closed my mouth, before looking down. When I looked up, I noticed that neither Jo nor Dean had taken their eyes off of their own burgers, and were releasing small moans of their own. The embarrassment I felt slipped away. 

When we had finished eating our burgers in comfortable silence, Dean and I waited for our pie. 

“Why did you not order pie, Jo?” I was inquisitive as I was sure she would enjoy a dessert of that kind. 

“I don’t like pie.” 

“’Don’t like pie’, how the hell can you say that? Pie is even better than those burgers.”

“Wow Winchester, if anything is better than that burger, I will be thoroughly surprised.”

“Well prepare to be shocked outta your skull, Novak. They got the best damn pie in the whole of Manhattan.” 

“That’s a high standard to live up to, we shall see.” Dean looked over my shoulder, and his grin widened.

“Yeah, we’ll see right about now.” As he said that, Pamela walked up to us with two plates, each with a slice of apple pie on them.

She placed the plates in front of us and I did not hesitate to eat this time. I grabbed the fork from the plate and immediately cut off a forkful and ate it. 

Dean was right once more. I had never tasted anything quite like it; the flavours worked well and complemented each other in a way that I had never experienced before. A louder moan escaped my mouth that Dean immediately reciprocated when he ate his own mouthful of the pie. 

I heard Jo sigh in mock exasperation at the sounds coming from our mouths, but the pie I was currently ingesting tasted too sensational to care. 

“Okay, guys ya’ll finished now? I don’t need to hear your sex moans anymore.” She smirked as she spoke.

“You sure?” Dean moaned again, over exaggerating the sound that was already so attractive and multiplying by then. I was sure everybody could see me blush, the noise made me feel a longing, which I was sure I was thinly veiling. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely sure.” We were all laughing now, I joined in to avoid them looking at me and realising my blush. 

“Okay, back to the office we go.” Jo and I simultaneously groaned. “Hey Harvelle, Novak, you guys are still my employees, I’ll fire your asses.” Dean winked as he spoke, but I hardly noticed. ‘Harvelle’? That is the surname of my therapist, Dr Ellen Harvelle. I was sure I had either misheard or it was just a coincidence that they have the same surname. /I can’t be friends with my therapist’s daughter. I’m sure it’s not her. / I was brought out of my thoughts by someone clearing their throat.

“Dude, I was kidding, I’m not gonna fire you. Me n Jo have been looking for a third member to form a trio. We’ve always wanted to call ourselves the three musketeers.” Then I was smiling, they definitely liked me, and I was sure that it was just a coincidence.

“I like the sound of that.” 

“Me too,” Jo added. “Let’s go though; we’ve been gone longer than usual.”

After that, we quickly paid Pamela and made our way back to the office. We arrived there at 3:30 to an office full of disapproving looks. We walked up the stairs, Dean had said it was to “burn off those burger calories”, and as Jo walked back to her seat I thanked him for not mentioning it. He only winked and walked away. 

The rest of the day passed slowly, I kept looking up from my desk and into Dean’s office, I could see in through the window from where I was positioned and occasionally I caught him looking in my direction. He only smiled and looked back down at his work. The minutes ticked by on the clock and finally it was 5pm. I started to gather my things in my briefcase and when I looked up, Dean was walking over to my desk. 

He leant in and spoke quietly. “Hey Novak, I’ll see you tomorrow, come in at 8 and try the elevator. I’ll be here.”

I smiled as I could feel his warmth so close to me. “See you then, Winchester.”

He smiled back at me and walked to his office, stopping to speak to Jo first. 

I shook my head, clearing the thoughts of how attractive he looked in that suit, and headed to the staircase to make the 34 flight descent. 

I drove home and again came here to start writing about my day. Overall, as first days go, I have to say that it was a good one. I have made two friends, one of which is the boss, an attractive male that my pining after is horrendously embarrassing, nonetheless he is very kind and clearly a good friend. Jo is also funny and kind, I am uncertain if her mother is my therapist, but I am sure I will find out.

**Author's Note:**

> As this is set in the 80’s, homosexuality was still largely discriminated against so the Destiel action might take a while, but I promise the wait will be made up for once it begins!
> 
> I had to research a lot for this fic as I have never been to New York City, and have no experience with workplaces that I’m describing or of that period of time in New York. But I attempted to make it as accurate as possible however if anybody has noticed anything wrong or has a better knowledge of these things please let me know. Thanks!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


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